


darling, so it goes: some things were meant to be

by minorseventh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate POV for a Meet Cute on a Plane, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 14:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11083803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minorseventh/pseuds/minorseventh
Summary: The stewardess comes around asking if they need anything in advance before the first round of refreshments are served, and Victor bites his tongue to avoid asking for her help to get Cute Guy’s number. Instead, he pulls out his tablet, blessed by the in-flight wifi, and searches up the least cheesy ways to ask someone out while on an airplane.Luckily, he doesn't have to use any of wikiHow's terrible pick-up lines, because it turns out he's not the only one interested.





	darling, so it goes: some things were meant to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/gifts).



> I couldn't help but add Victor's POV to the sweetest in-flight oneshot by Marks! I tried to keep all dialogue authentic to the original, which you can read here: [Nothing Subtle About This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069085)

Victor gets distracted in airports.

It’s inevitable: there are designer brands around every gate corner. The rooms are decorated with beautiful perfume displays and chocolate samplers, and the walls are adorned with gorgeous scarves and jackets. And the architecture! There’s so much to see in the St. Petersburg terminals, with its soaring origami-folded ceilings and elaborate geometric designs. It always felt to Victor like exploring an ice palace… that he owned, because every time he used to touch down, a small crowd would obediently cheer as he walked through the gates upon arrival, showering him in small gifts and camera flashes. Perks of being the country’s star junior skater.

Things are different now that he’s off the radar. He’s free to wander undisturbed as he travels from country to country, working for various agents as he advises and designs for people he may have competed against one day.

He still dreams of how it would’ve been if he were still eligible for a podium spot. He’d still have his signature long hair, probably, bright eyes, a cocky smirk after each performance… well, his life had literally shattered that time he crashed doing an illegal quad flip, but he had picked it up since then, piece by piece, slowly mending his future back together.

But here he was, back in the Pulkovo Airport, running late to catch a flight for a business trip to Japan. By the time security cleared all his camera equipment, it was already the final call for boarding, and he all but sprinted to the gate with his suitcase, lucky that a flight attendant let him on in time.

He walked down the aisle with an apologetic smile, ducking his head as passengers gave him various versions of the evil eye. Many of the seats were empty, but most seemed impatient to get going, which Victor could get behind. He’d been on many a delayed flight with nothing but a book of Yakov’s crossword puzzles and a dead phone.

Not fun. Trust him on that one.

So Victor studiously looks for his seat—12F, so by the window, which is always nice—when he notices the cutest brown eyes, albeit hidden behind frames, blinking up at him before ducking away. Somehow, Victor registers that this is indeed the row he’s looking for, empty save himself and Cute Guy, and can’t help but grin as he turns to stow his luggage up in the overhead bin.

Takeoff goes smoothly, and Victor wonders if he could just as smoothly slide into the seat next to Cute Guy, who’s scrunching his nose as he plays some sort of colorful mobile game. It’s the most adorable thing Victor has ever seen. Well, except maybe Makkachin in a flower crown, but that doesn’t count. And even if Makkachin sets the bar pretty high, Cute Guy ranks right up there behind everyone’s favorite poodle.

The stewardess comes around asking if they need anything in advance before the first round of refreshments are served, and Victor bites his tongue to avoid asking for her help to get Cute Guy’s number. Instead, he pulls out his tablet, blessed by the in-flight wifi, and searches up the least cheesy ways to ask someone out while on an airplane. Google’s results don’t match up perfectly with his query, but Victor isn’t deterred. He chews on his lip, thoughtfully browsing through wikiHow and reddit when suddenly–

A shutter click and flash interrupts his thoughts.

For a moment, Victor thinks he’s been perhaps blinded by the presence of an angel or something, but then he realizes he’s caught the adorkable passenger across the aisle red-handed: Cute Guy has trained a phone camera directly on his face.

Victor blinks, overwhelmed. “Did you just take my picture?”

Cute Guy blushes furiously and tries to avoid all eye contact. “I’m so sorry! Uh… I’ll delete it,” he says forlornly, still not looking up. In a clumsy show, he all but loses control of his senses and throws the phone at Victor. “I– um– _You_ delete it!”

Victor manages to catch the projectile before it hits his face—which is also what he sees on the screen. His face. It’s annoyingly good lighting for such a picture, too. That incandescent overhead reading lamp creates a better ambience than most of the professional shoots Victor works at.

“It’s a good picture!” he says honestly, all smiles. “A commemorative photo of our flight together?”

Cute Guy seems to want to hide into his tracksuit jacket. The tips of his ears are turning pink. Victor thinks it’s a charming pose, snapping a picture for himself (with a silent shutter, of course) before taking a seat right next to him.

“I’m Victor,” he says. “What's your name?”

Cute Guy sits up slightly, looking mortified. “You're not… mad?”

“That’s a funny name,” Victor replies with a twinkling laugh. “Mad? Of course I'm not mad. Who gets mad when a cute guy wants to take your picture?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “A cute guy, who has a name, which is…?”

“Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri – Yuuri Katsuki.”

The gears in Victor’s head start turning at a hundred miles an hour. “Like the ice skater! Wow!” he proclaims happily, realizing belatedly that this fellow flyer was basically a Japanese lookalike…

Yuuri turns around to look at him slowly, his face only twelve inches away from Victor’s, when the pieces finally fit together. The cabin seems to go silent for a moment.

“You’re him, aren’t you?”

Yuuri nods once, and Victor feels like an overexcited puppy. “Wow!” The skater who just won silver at the Grand Prix! “I loved your performance at Worlds,” Victor says genuinely. “You’re a beautiful skater.” _And a beautiful person_ , he doesn’t say.

Yuuri ducks away, seeming to enjoy the compliment (Victor is thrilled). “How do you know so much about figure skating?”

“Oh.” That’s a long story. “Well, I used to compete… a long time ago, as a teenager, before I got injured. And then I modeled for a little bit and now I mostly work behind the scenes,” Victor says, matter-of-factly, trying not to get too choked up himself. He shrugs simply, and brings out Christophe’s favorite phrase. “C’est la vie.”

Yuuri looks at him with dawning curiosity, eyes wider than the moon tracing over his face, taking the sight from his hair down to his collarbones. Victor feels a chill run down his spine, wondering what else those eyes would look at if they got the chance.

And then, in a whisper so small Victor nearly has to crane his neck to hear, Yuuri asks, “Are you Victor _Nikiforov_?”

And then, it’s Victor’s turn to be surprised. “How… do you know who I am?”

And then Yuuri replies, with a certain confidence, “Because you’re the reason I started figure skating.”

And suddenly, it seems like they’ve hit turbulence, but in a good way, because Victor finally feels like he's flying to somewhere he belongs again.


End file.
